Blue Day
by Three Falls Weyr
Summary: He came, he saw, he took a nap. A story of the Three Falls Forty. One-shot, gen.


Disclaimer: Dragonriders of Pern belongs to Anne McCaffrey...We're just telling a different story

A/N: We're back! Sorry about the vanishing act but...NaNoWriMo waits for no story. Good news, GoH won! Now, we're back to TFW.

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Z'rat wasn't sure why he'd ever thought that life at the Weyr would be easier than life as a glass smith apprentice. He hacked another slice of meat from the beast and glanced over at the doors to the barracks, hoping that Olenth had not awakened yet. Some of the others were being hounded by their dragons, but Olenth had to say anything to him. "Fardles," someone growled. Z'rat twisted around to see that the sole female greenrider was glaring at her chopping block, "Stupid knife," she growled and lifted it again.

"You ok?" One of the bronze riders asked.

L'say, Z'rat identified, eyeing the young man's blond hair. "I'm fine," the girl said. "I'm just not used to chopping up this much meat. Even during the fall we didn't have this much meat to deal with."

The boy grinned at her, "I know, I've done a few slaughter days myself. At least they'll be hunting on their own before long."

"L'say," the old Weyrlingmaster growled.

L'say looked up at the man, his chin jutting slightly with stubbornness. "Was there something you wanted sir?" He asked in a falsely innocent tone of voice.

"Leave the greenriders alone," R'kor told him. "They have enough to worry about."

"Yes sir," L'say replied, "whatever you say, sir."

R'kor eyed him for a moment, "If you ever," he said finally, "sass back to me again, you will find out just what sort of punishment Weyrlings earn."

L'say stared at him for a second, his hazel eyes dark and then he nodded, once. R'kor looked at the girl, _Livana_, his errant mind whispered, but said nothing before heading back into the barracks. "Shards and shells," L'say growled, eyes sliding over to the other bronze rider, "where does he get off on that? He's all about the superiority of Bronze Riders, but let one of us show a hint of spirit and we're dust beneath his heel."

"If you didn't antagonize him," the other boy, J'kai, replied, "He wouldn't be half so bad."

"If you would do something," L'say began.

"I told you I'd back you," J'kai said, "You'll get the same out of me now that you did before. That is, I'll do my part even if it's not the same in-your-face policy that you've adopted."

"I wish you two would be more careful," the queen rider contributed as she joined them. "If R'kor thinks you're plotting an insurrection things are going to get mighty uncomfortable around here."

Z'rat glanced around and saw the other Weyrlings were listening to the class leaders discretely. He sighed and began to chop again. "We're not plotting insurrection," L'say protested. "We're plotting change."

"This is High Reaches," one of the green riders declared, "the Reaches don't change and neither does the Weyr."

L'say stared at the boy, "Change," he said quietly, "is not a bad thing. Change for its own sake can lead to trouble, but at the same time, there should be change. To never change is to stagnate, and to stagnate is to die. Besides, you cannot say that you look forward to being regarded as the lowest of Riders and, in their eyes, no better than a woman?"

The boy, Z'rat thought his name was E'moran, drew himself up and opened his mouth, "My brother is not suggesting that we set fire to the Weyr!" J'kai said hurriedly, "Only that some change should be allowed; something different, something _new."_

"Here is something new," R'kor announced, "J'kai, L'say, Iona, R'nal, you are required to attend the Weyrwoman immediately after breakfast."

_I am hungry._ Olenth announced.

Z'rat dumped the last of his meat into his feeding pail and picked it up, _Breakfast is ready,_ he replied, hurrying to the door of the barracks. Moments later, he was facing the dark blue dragonet. "Let's step over here," he murmured, edging into the 'acceptable' feeding area.

Olenth, at three sevendays, had learned not to dive for the fresh cut meat in the time since his birth. Instead, he let Z'rat pass him pieces a few at a time and chewed them. "I wonder what the Weyrwoman wants," Livana murmured as she joined him.

"Does it matter?" Z'rat replied after a moment. "We aren't invited." He did _not_ look up as R'kor passed. The Weyrlingmaster reminded him of one of the glass masters he'd once studied under back at the craft hall. The man had loved to catch apprentices ignoring their duties in favor of either idle gossip or conversation that didn't pertain to the craft; especially if the conversation spoke out against the leadership in one form or another.

"S'vero," R'kor snapped, "your blue is hungry. Hurry up and feed him."

"Yes sir," the boy replied.

In short order, the group had fed their dragons, settled them at the lake and gathered in the first classroom. As Z'rat took his seat in the back, the place where outcasts were banished early on, he noticed that his chair did not wobble and creak under his weight as much as it normally did. A'zon and H'ber, Z'rat's fellow exiles, joined him shortly. A'zon put his hand on the table and frowned before drawing a single finger across the top of the table carefully. Z'rat watched as he studied his finger for a moment and then flicked a glance at the door. "What?" Z'rat asked.

"Someone's sanded this table," A'zon replied.

Z'rat frowned and touched the table, it did feel smooth. He drew his finger carefully across the wood and felt how smooth it was. _What is going on?_ He wondered.

"Silence," R'kor announced as he stalked into the room and slammed the door behind him. "Today we are going to cover an important topic."

Z'rat sat back and crossed his arms, _what are we going to talk about today,_ He mused, _the greatness of bronzes or the proper protocols for dealing with browns? I know, we could have another lecture on how we're all scum on the bottom of the pond._

"Mating flights and their affects on riders," R'kor said.

Z'rat watched the man pace across the front of the classroom, not yet ready to quit paying attention beyond a vague interest. _Maybe we'll actually learn something today,_ he thought.

"Being the riders of Blues and Greens," R'kor continued, "you will have very little to do with Gold Flights. Green flights, however, will be a large factor of your life. A green will rise for the first time any time after the one-Turn anniversary of their Hatching. Riders will be alerted to a green's willingness by her rider. When a green rider become snappish, it can be considered a warning of their green's rising need to mate. The green will most likely sleep or sunbathe on that day, until they are ready to fly. First, they will hunt. It is not necessary to force a green to blood. As the use of firestone renders them incapable of laying eggs, then blooding kills is not necessary. Only a Queen, who must fly high and far to ensure a decent clutch needs to blood their kill."

Z'rat couldn't deny he was interested, this actually meant something.

"Blue dragons are the primary chasers in a green flight," R'kor said, "although browns and rarely bronzes will also chase. Greens are fickle creatures, some will consistently choose one dragon over all others, and others will choose a different mate every flight. Given that they rise with greater frequency than Queens, this is a fact you must all be aware of." He looked around the room, "I will not be handling your class work for much longer. My second, G'vani, will take over soon so that you may become accustom to him. I will continue to oversee your drills, however, Paygeth has entered the Hatching Grounds and soon there will be a second clutch. As such, I wish to instill this final piece of information before G'vani becomes your instructor. _Do not let your dragon's first flight be your own._ There are many stories of horrible first flights because a green rider, or even a blue rider, chose to wait. Even if you've never even thought of sex before, I suggest you get to know each other and when the Turn is over take care of the issue as quickly as possible."

With that, R'kor turned to his desk and picked up a sheaf of parchments. "Our next topic is Holder protocol, that is, how to deal with Holders in a variety of situations."

Z'rat leaned forward and put his arms on the table, feeling, again, the smoothness of the board and wondering who had sanded the table and why. It was far more interesting to try to figure out that puzzle than listen to R'kor lecture. There was also the fact that it would keep him from trying to think about R'kor's strange lecture. For a few minutes, the man had actually managed not to actually insult them; Z'rat had quietly doubted it was possible.


End file.
